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Summer's End

            James stood silently at the cabin’s bay window and watched as morning wrestled the sky from night’s embrace. The first traces of daylight were evident along the banks of the Churchill River, twelve hundred miles north of the US /Canadian border.

                        “Think they’ll be biting today?” he asked the quiet room.   

            His gaze was drawn to the shoreline outside the cabin and the makeshift boat dock just beyond. There in the morning fog was something he had not seen in all his years of coming here. A dark and rounded hump rested just off shore.  Its’ details were smudged with atmosphere but it looked mechanical.   

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